


I'm Not Going

by hmweasley



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banned Together Bingo, Criticism of Christianity, Gen, Post-Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Pre-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, criticism of religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28069911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hmweasley/pseuds/hmweasley
Summary: When she comes home for the summer, Hermione finally has the courage to tell her parents something that she's been keeping to herself for years.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Mr Granger & Mrs Granger
Kudos: 6
Collections: Banned Together Bingo 2020





	I'm Not Going

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts:  
> Banned Together Bingo - Anti-religion  
> Hogwarts - Include a scene of a back-and-forth argument between two characters.

Hermione’s heart hammered in her chest as she stared at her parents across the dinner table. Her mum had a perpetual smile on her face as she ate, clearly happy that her only child was back home for the summer. Hermione hadn’t known how to explain what had happened to them, so she just hadn’t. They knew of the Triwizard Tournament because she’d written about it in her letters home throughout the year, but she didn’t think she could possibly work up the courage to tell them how it had ended.

As it was, she could hardly work up the courage to tell them something else that felt far more simpler and less of a serious thing than that. The problem was that she knew it wouldn’t be something small to her parents.

It was a Saturday night, and tomorrow, bright and early, her mum would wake her up and tell her to get ready for church. Hermione swallowed in a useless attempt to fight against the stinging in her throat.

She cleared it instead, making both of her parents glance at her. She smiled back, but something in her demeanor had clued them in. They glanced at each other before lowering their forks simultaneously. Hermione had a fleeting thought about how she was almost jealous of their marriage before she focused back on what had her so worried.

“I, um…” Hermione swallowed, wondering if her confession would be easier if she’d done it before she felt the pressing weight of danger closing in on her. “I’m not going to attend church with you tomorrow.”

There was such a heavy silence that Hermione was tempted to tap her fork against her plate just to break it. She didn’t, acting like the picture of an obedient daughter while her parents tried to work out why she had suddenly grown rebellious.

Her father was the first to find his words, just like he usually was. Hermione cringed as he began to speak, his brown eyes intense as he gazed at Hermione.

“Is this because of your school?” he demanded. “That woman promised us when she came that—”

“They haven’t said anything,” Hermione rushed to add. She didn’t think her parents would try to pull her out of Hogwarts after four years of approving of her being there, but she hadn’t been able to completely deny the possibility of it. She couldn’t let her parents think that the school itself had anything to do with her decision. “This is only about me,” she added. “Even if I’d stayed her and attended school in London, even if I’d gone to church with you every Sunday, I still think I’d have ended up here.”

Her father clenched his jaw but didn’t say another word as he turned to his wife in desperation. The woman sighed, her own expression full of more sympathy than that of her husband.

“I was so worried about you not being able to attend church while you were there.” She reached across the table to clasp Hermione’s hand in her own. Hermione accepted the show of affection, trying to allow it to calm her racing heart. “Your spiritual education has of course been lacking. We can speak to Father Smith tomorrow about a Bible study or something like that where you could participate in the summer. You loved Sunday school as a child. If you just devoted your time to God again—”

“Mum, no.”

Hermione tugged her hand from her mum’s grip and grabbed a fistful of her skirt instead in an attempt to ground herself.

“Bible study isn’t going to change anything,” she said. “For the first two years of school, I still read the Bible every day, you know? This isn’t about a lack of education or anything. If anything…” She hesitated, sure she would regret her next words. She said them anyway. “If anything, education is the reason I’m telling you this now.”

Hermione had never seen her father look so angry or her mother so scandalized in her life. She had been expecting it, but the knowledge that she’d made them look that way still shook her to her core. Somehow, it made her braver. It was as if they’d crossed the point of no return, so there was nothing holding her back from speaking her mind.

“Every day I see things that I once believed to be impossible. They didn’t make sense at first, but by now, I understand that even magic can be explained even if it’s not in the same way as science. But the Bible… God… I can’t explain those in the same way. It’s as if the more I study it, the more the story falls apart.”

She could hear her father’s breathing from across the table. He was trying to control it to keep himself calm, but he was barely hanging on.

“This isn’t how we raised you,” he said, apparently desperate but not knowing how else to express it. “We took you to church every Sunday, taught you His teachings, gave you the best education—”

“That’s just it. You did give me a good education, and you gave me access to even greater education. From the time I was little, you taught me to think critically and question sources. You’ve always been a scientist at heart, Dad. You had to know that I would question God eventually too.”

“No,” he shot back. “I didn’t think you would question the truth. Not when we made sure that you knew it well.”

Hermione sighed. There wouldn’t be any getting through to them. She’d known that when she first raised the topic, but there had still been some small part of her that had hoped for a different outcome. Even if her parents would never see things her way, she had at least wanted them to accept her point of view without argument. Of course that had been too much to ask for.

“I’m sorry,” she said even as she told herself internally that she had nothing to apologize for. “But I can’t sit in church tomorrow. I don’t feel comfortable there.”

Her parents shared another look. Her dad looked like he wanted to argue further, but her mum placed a gentle hand over his on the table and gave it a squeeze. He remained quiet, but nothing in his demeanor shifted. Hermione tried to take one bite, but she couldn’t even taste her chicken. She swallowed it with difficulty and pushed her chair back, for once not caring that it scrapped against the wood of the kitchen floor.

“I’m full,” she said, already standing. “May I be excused?”

It was the first time in her life that she didn’t even wait for the answer.


End file.
